Bite
by Librarian7
Summary: A second person POV vignette...what does feeding the vampire feel like?


So you think you've finally gotten up your nerve, and you think you're willing to be a vampire's meal. He's told you he's experienced, and you won't be harmed, but can you really trust a predator? Can you really believe what he tells you? This may be your last dance, your last few breaths…are you sure you can handle that?

You've heard from a friend that it's the greatest feeling ever, an adrenaline rush, and endorphin high. She told you the fangs don't hurt, they just slide through the skin like a whisper, and then the pleasure really starts. But you have to experience it for yourself, to see what it's really like. You got too curious, and now you're going to have to pay the price.

All at once everything seems heightened, like the whole world just came into sharper focus. Maybe it's not too late to back out, maybe you can disappear into the night, forget the whole thing. Maybe you can look away from those eyes, the ones that are hypnotizing you right now.

You came to this club for adventure, you knew exactly what kind of place it was supposed to be, even if you weren't sure you believed what your friend told you. She said it was safe…or at least that you'd probably walk away, and with something to remember forever. You'd never have believed her, if she hadn't shown you the scars on her neck. And when she pulled you into her cubicle, looking around carefully to make sure no one else could see the two of you, and showed you the marks high on her inner thigh, you started planning what would be best to wear to the vampire club. You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears, and you thought, I've got to see this, I've got to feel this.

The guy at the door of the club gave you the funniest look when you got there, and you could swear he sniffed at you, before he let you in. He didn't seem to have fangs, but it's hard to tell in the dark. Maybe his teeth were a little more pointed than normal, but you're sure that doesn't make him a vampire.

This place is strange, and your friend has disappeared, left you on your own. So you sip your drink, and look around. The people here do seem to wear a lot of black, but that could be any goth bar. It still doesn't mean there are real vampires here. Maybe it's all pretend, but when a tall, good-looking guy asks you to dance, you figure, hey, who cares if he's a vampire or not, he's really hot.

You dance, once, twice, and the rhythm is getting in your head, and you start thinking, you know, maybe he'll kiss me. The dance keeps bringing your bodies closer, and you feel like there's an attraction there you can't ignore. He leads you off the dance floor, and kisses you, and you've never felt a kiss like this before. His hands, his mouth, are cool, or maybe you're just fevered hot from the dancing. And he tells you he wants to feed, and that he'd never hurt you…and all the while you're thinking, yes, yes, God, yes. Because you could drown in those eyes, because right here and now the whole world is just you and him and the beat of the music, the beat of your heart.

And he looks you in the face, and his beautiful eyes have turned from deep blue to silver, and you know it's all true, he is a vampire, it's all real. So you say yes, feed on me, even though right then the fear of it is making your heart race. Because it might not be like your friend said, it might not be like you hope it will.

And he puts his arms around you, and moves his cool mouth to your neck, and whatever it is he's doing there makes you moan with pleasure, and there is pain, sharp like lightning when his fangs pierce your skin, but it's sweet as well, and you can feel the blood flowing, feel him latched onto the wound like he can't get enough, and there is nothing but the pulse pounding in your head, the feel of his mouth on your neck, and those cool arms around you.

Then he releases you, and you almost fall. Your head is spinning, and you're not sure what just happened, but you can see the blood on his lips, and you put a hand to your throat and feel the wounds. He's looking at you now, almost sadly, and he leads you back to the dance floor, back to your table, and walks away without a word.

You've never felt more alive, and you've never been closer to death. You'll be back.


End file.
